I have just realized, my mind has been asleep, my past lives in a mausoleum.
I sell postcards of Spain outside the GPO to remind us of sunlight in winter.
It’s a thankless job but poetic tendencies just will not pay my rent.
On these scorched streets I praise the gods I open my mouth and see what heaven sends
I am calling all the bards in
To illuminate me now
If I lean towards a trigger you say
You can’t kid a kidder no
I am Lawrence of Arcadia, who exactly are you anyway ?
Your looking at the last known bar stool prophet to retire early from the trade
I’m going fishing for pearls of wisdom, I’ll be dancing through the pissing rain
Your welcome to join me young annoyance, for I find you quite amusing all the same.
I am calling all the bards in
To illuminate us now
If I lean towards a trigger, you say
You can’t kid a kidder no
I must consult Christy whose selling bin tags from his liberated bicycle of gold
If there is answers to be sought out, sure it’s him who knows all that’s been told
Or the eat your dinner of my shoes barber outside his hungry door
Well I know I’m taking notes but tell me, who is it that’s keeping score ?
I am calling all the bards in
To illuminate us now
Should my words flow like a river, you say
You can’t kid a kidder no.